


One Day Ahead

by logicalities



Category: Cancer Crew, Filthy Frank - Fandom, Maxmoefoe - Fandom, Shrimpson Boys, Video Blogging RPF, h3h3productions, idubbbz - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Basically one big cancer family, Everyone lives in Australia, F/M, Gen, M/M, Maxian endgame, Multi, Pre-Slash, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, cancer crew - Freeform, no youtube (at first)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9788684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logicalities/pseuds/logicalities
Summary: From day one, Ian thinks Australia is the worst place ever invented. Having been hastily uprooted from a happy life in California and taken thousands of miles away from his lifelong friends, he is more than ready to be bitter for the rest of his life, or however long it takes for his moronic parents to bring him home.On the first day of school his plan hits a roadblock in the form of a guy with shaggy hair in his business class. Ian can barely understand him through the accent and the slang-but he knows his name is Max.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone. There isn't a ton of fanfiction for this fandom, and, well, every fandom needs a high school AU, right? 
> 
> The story is going to be primarily through Ian's POV and will follow the boys from junior year/year 11 to after graduation. I don't have everything solidly planned yet, so a lot will depend on what you guys want to see. Comments are super appreciated!!
> 
> This first chapter is more of a prologue-the rest of the gang will appear in chapters 2 and 3.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for more cc bullshit- sleepydubbbz.tumblr.com .

Until he looked at his phone, Ian hadn’t realized he’d been at the beach for two hours already.

The sun had all but gone, a glowing reminder still visible out over the waves. The evening was cool and quiet, not many people around-most were over on the pier, getting ice cream or a late dinner, enjoying time with their families. Ian didn’t want to be anywhere near his family right now.

He’d spent his entire life coming to this beach. He’d learned to swim here. Birthday parties and Memorial Day picnics and mundane family outings had all happened here. It was just a part of his personal scenery, seemingly permanent, nothing special. Just a beach. There were hundreds, thousands of beaches. But this was his, and it was one of the last nights it would be his. 

Why would his parents do this to him? They _knew_ that this town was his home. All of his friends lived here, he knew nothing else. But it seemed like they didn’t give a shit-they were just going to uproot him halfway through high school and dump him in a new school, a new city, a new fucking continent where he had absolutely nothing and nobody, not even his sister who was starting school in Los Angeles in a few weeks and _God he wanted to fucking die._

Sounds of laughter and raucous kids shouting drifted across the sand from down the block, and Ian almost felt like he was being mocked. That should be him, out fucking around with his buddies Jordan and Riley. But...he wasn’t part of this anymore. For them, this town was their constant, and knowing that his time here was ending made him transient, in the wind. This wasn’t his home anymore, and just the fact of a certain end to his time here made him an outlier. Just a few words from his dad, and Jordan and Riley had become his past.

The move may have been a few weeks away-but it was already over for him.

“When you look back,” his mom had explained earlier, “you’ll be happy we did this. Australia will be such an amazing experience for you-you’ll learn so much more about the world, and I know you’ll make lots of new friends. Not many kids have this opportunity, Ian.”

That was the point where Ian, hands shaking, had quietly said “yeah, thanks so much for ruining my fucking life” and stormed out the back door before either of his stunned parents could find words.

He was still shaking, as a matter of fact. Ian had never been an angry kid-in fact, he was exceptionally calm, which had always been an advantage at school. He’d always had a solid group of friends, mostly loners who admired how unfazed he was by the douche-bags that would try and pick fights with them now and again. In high school, he’d garnered a reputation for being someone you didn’t want to fuck with-if you swung at Ian Carter, you’d be systematically dismantled by sheer wit alone. Now everything he’d been for 16 years was being taken from him and there was no scathing quip in the world that could stop it.

Strands of unformed thoughts were fogging up his head- _run away live with a friend get a job move away move in with Sarah get on the Greyhound live under the fucking pier_ -and each was more fucking moronic than the last one. Beyond all the rage and despair and utter scorn for his parents, the facts were finally settling on him-he was going to have to pack up and move across the Pacific to Perth, Australia, where he knew nobody and everyone had stupid accents and he’d have to wear a gay-ass uniform to school.

Now his phone was telling him it was nearly 10pm. Ian was somewhat shocked that his parents hadn’t come after him, called, or even texted him, but he was begrudgingly grateful to them for giving him space. Without really thinking about it, he stood and brushed the sand off his ass, shaking out the pins and needles in his calves, and headed along the beach in the general direction of the pier, because he fucking deserved some ice cream. The waves were calm tonight, and he walked down near the waterline in the spongy sand, letting the water and foam run over his feet. He meandered along in no real hurry as he pulled up the Wikipedia page for Perth, Australia.

 

+++++

 

Ultimately, Ian decided against telling anyone he was leaving. He did feel like a piece of shit for it, but after a lot of thought, it was the best thing for everyone. It was better for his friends if he just kind of vanished-no sad goodbyes, no fighting, no last times. This way, all they had was the good memories of when arguing over Call of Duty and throwing pencils at each other in Science was guaranteed to be forever.

And, if he was honest-he couldn’t face them.

Only Sarah saw them off at the airport, two weeks before the end of August. Los Angeles was scorching and unnervingly clear that day, and even as his dad tried to strike up conversation with him, Ian just stared out the window at the heat waves rippling off the sea of tarmac. The sight burned into his eyes and made his head hurt, and even hours later when everyone was sleeping, he saw nothing but heat waves on the backs of his eyelids, so he had no choice but to watch a mostly empty and dark sky and listen to the constant thrum of the plane.

Over a day later, Ian found himself walking down a foreign sidewalk in a foreign country and getting into a rental car with a steering wheel on the wrong side, and his phone began buzzing incessantly in his pocket. The screen told him he had 18 new texts, and he shut his phone off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian hates uniforms. Also, what the fuck does "bonza" mean?

So far, the only perk of Australia was that school didn’t start until late September. That gave Ian a solid four weeks to get acclimated to....whatever the hell his life was now.

The new house was a bit nicer-his bedroom was bigger and he didn’t have to share a bathroom with a girl. Their neighborhood, called Doubleview, wasn’t dissimilar from his old one, and there was a beach not too far away-okay, there were lots of beaches. Not that Ian had visited any of them-his life consisted of playing video games, sneaking out to get food when his parents were out or asleep, and taking 2 to 4 hour depression naps. This schedule was only ever interrupted when his mother would come into his room unannounced to try and “talk”, the theme always some variant of “try and get out more”, “try and find things to do”, “try making some friends”, “try to stop moping” - and Ian always reminded her icily that he wouldn’t have to “try” and do anything if he was back home. For two weeks, those were the only times to spoke to her, and he only spared words for his dad to say “excuse me” when they ran into each other by the fridge. Thankfully, it seemed as though his dad was making at least some effort to avoid him, too. _Well,_ Ian thought, _he must know that this is all his fault. He didn’t have to take this job._

By the time the school term was about to start, Ian had only cried once, which in his book was nothing to be proud of. It had been the previous week, when one afternoon his mom had arrived home from work early and handed him a McDonald’s bag. Ian had heard that people here called it “Macca’s”, which sounded plain old retarded.

“Thanks,” he’d said hesitantly, certain that these fries came with a catch.

“You’re welcome,” she’d said, smiling and reaching out to ruffle his hair-something she hadn’t done since he was about twelve. “Bring it in the car-we’re going shopping.”

He knew his mom too well.

“Shopping where? You just got groceries two days ago.”

“I know-we’re getting your uniforms. Gotta make sure everything fits.”

A ball of ice had materialized in Ian’s stomach-he’d almost forgotten about going back to school. School meant that he really wasn’t going home-alone in his room, he could pretend he was still in California with no outside influences to spoil the fantasy. At school, he’d be in uncomfortable clothes surrounded by people he’d never seen; people who had their own groups of lifelong friends who wouldn’t give two shits about a too-tall, nerdy-looking American kid.

But it wasn’t in Ian’s nature to be confrontational, and never had been, so he’d dragged his feet following his mom to the car, surveying the houses around them. It had just rained, making the air a bit thick, and the next-door neighbors had a vibrant golden flowerbed that he could smell from yards away. Spring was underway here; the cooling breeze in September was a stranger to him since he’d only ever known it to be cool from November to January.

The numbness began burgeoning into a breakdown when he’d seen himself in the fitting room mirror. The uniform store was at school, and he’d allowed his mom to drive him around stacks of button-downs, navy and khaki trousers, identical piles of socks and pullovers and jackets, only coming out of the defensive trance when he was gazing at a self he hardly knew.

Ian wore a sky blue button-down, a dark grey tie with skinny stripes of silver, and dark navy trousers. The shirt bore the embroidered crest of Westdale Senior High School. His mom had told him to put the blazer on, too, but he despised it-everything was stiff and starched and utterly backwards from his norm. In that moment, the panic he’d been dutifully suppressing began to well up in his throat and lungs, and everything became itchy and tight; he leaned against the wall and loosened his tie, then yanked his glasses off to furiously wipe his eyes on the offensive shirtsleeve. No amount of fidgeting or breathing deep could stop him from thinking _this is it this is it this is it._

"Hey. This looks like cancer," he said through the dressing room door.

 

+++++ 

 

The very first thing that struck Ian about Westdale, in the asscrack of that overcast morning, was how fucking clean it was. Perhaps it was because they had just come back from break, but every school he’d been to in California had had a permanent dry-rot funk about it, and as he got older the air only became more pungent with traces of body spray, gym clothes stuffed in lockers, bad food, and marijuana-lots of marijuana. All Ian could detect in Westdale’s airy lobby was ammonia and coffee.

The second thing that struck him, about fifteen seconds later, was a hulking mass of flesh that rammed into his chest and sent him right into the tiled floor, glasses going askew as his head bounced.

“Son of a fuckin’ cuntbag,” exclaimed the giant, stumbling off his skateboard. His tie was loose around his neck in what could hardly be described as a knot, and a thin sheen of sweat decorated his forehead. Ian thought the goofy smile really tied this clown's whole look together. “Oi, watch where you’re goin’, pussy boy. Somebody’s lookin’ like a faggot this mornin’.”

Since the fucker clearly wasn’t going to extend a helping hand, Ian got himself up with no small amount of difficulty, trying to get some wind back in him before retorting.

“I didn’t realize we could skateboard in here, man,” he finally said as he dusted off his shirt. “Or did you get special permission because you can barely lug your own weight around?”

The smile vanished from Big Cunt’s face. Ian quickly realized that this must be one of the guys that nobody talked back to, no matter how forcefully they were bowled over. He was already trying to think of the easiest way to tell his mom he broke his glasses on the first day of school when he was startled by a booming cackle and a beefy hand clapping him on the shoulder, jarring his teeth in their sockets.

“You’re a witty little cunt, I’ll give ya that,” said Big Cunt, grinning. “Nice accent, by the way, fag.”

Then he was off again, the board’s wheels clacking over the tiles, with a _clap_ echoing through the atrium as he popped a kickflip and disappeared down a hall.

As Ian stared after the guy, he had his first realization of the day: _I’ve still got it._

 

+++++

 

Westdale was by no means a small school, though still smaller than what Ian was used to-his school in California had over 3,500 kids, versus Westdale’s 2,800-and yet all his classmates seemed to know each other. In Modern History, he could pick out eight distinct friend groups, and six in French. Each group sat themselves in a cluster while Ian took seats in the back. No one paid even the slightest bit of attention to him, not even when the French teacher made him introduce himself, except to stare for one hellish moment before returning to their conversations or laptop screens.

School had never been difficult for him-right now the only true challenge was facing was deciphering teachers’ accents-but that didn’t make him any less eager to shoot himself as soon as he possibly could.

Despair finally cleared in the least likely of places- Business class.

By the third period, Ian was ridiculously fucking happy to remove his blazer, and draped it haphazardly over his desk chair. He was early; a few other kids were scattered around the room. Near the front, a dark-haired waif of a girl was perched on a desk and engrossed in her phone, foot wiggling incessantly. To the left near some floor-to-ceiling shelves was a boy much smaller than himself with Asian features; he was slouched brazenly in his seat, with the brim of a camo cap tugged over his eyes. Closest to him, in the corner in front of a window, sat a lanky, shaggy-haired boy. Despite being hunched over, Ian was certain this guy was as tall as he himself was, if not taller, judging by how he seemed just a tad too big for his desk. He recognized that the guy was holding a blue Nintendo DS, and he was playing Pokemon-either Ruby or Sapphire, judging by the graphics-

Fuck. The dude caught him staring.

The two locked eyes in silence, and Ian could almost hear his own embarrassment - but then the other guy smirked.

“Enjoying the view?’ he quipped, tossing his head to clear the hair away from his eyes. Ian was nearly 100% positive that he detected a bit of black liner under his eyes.

“No, no,” he stammered hastily, his face getting warm. “I mean-I was just staring into space, I guess. Which Pokemon is that?”

The vaguely-emo stranger cocked his head, a smile slowly spreading and taking over his face. “Hold on-you’re fuckin’ American. I’ve only met, like, two seppos before-one on the train and the other at the airport. How long you been here?”

“About a month, I guess.”

“Fuckin’ sick! Where in America you from?”

Ian hadn’t thought being American would be such a big deal-he’d actually assumed there’d be a lot of other Americans here, since America and Australia were pretty similar, right?

“California, near San Diego. It’s way south, close to Mexico, and it’s right on the ocean.”

This seemed to be extremely important judging by the expression he was receiving.

“California! Jesus fuck, d’ya know any famous people? Ever met Zoe Deschanel, she fuckin’ goes alright, I’d crack onto that-”

Not for the first time that day, Ian felt like he was listening to someone speak rapid Cantonese backwards.

“I don’t know any famous people, no,” he cut in. “I’m Ian, by the way.”

The smile he received told him the interruption wasn’t held against him. “Alright there? Name’s Max. And it’s Sapphire. You play too?”

“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t in a while, but Ruby is my favorite.”

“I’ve got a soft spot for the old ones-oi, see the sheila up front? Not bad, eh?”

Ian glanced at the petite girl again. “Yeah, yeah, she’s pretty good. Why?”

The classroom was mostly filled up now, and the minute bell rang, at which the girl sprang off the desk and crossed to the front of the room, pulling down the projector.

“Welcome back from your break, everyone,” she said, projecting out to the large room in a lilting accent that was decidedly not Australian. Ian felt his face growing hot.

“You poor bastard,” Max whispered, clearly very proud of himself.

“...That’s the fucking teacher?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Klein. I couldn’t believe it either. I think about half the blokes here cracked a fat before realizing who she was. But she’s fuckin’ bonza, probably the best teacher I’ve had. Y’know she used to be a digger, in Israel? That’s where she’s from.”

“Um...digger, huh?”

Max stared at Ian’s nonplussed expression. “Y’know, like...in the army.”

“Ohhhh, a soldier. Yeah, a lot of your words don’t make any goddamn sense, my man.”

“Really?” Max seemed extremely shocked by this, and Ian paused, then wanted to smack himself as the pin dropped.

“Ah, I get it. Very funny.”

"If you actually think we talk like that...Americans are stupider than I thought." 

He cringed inwardly-he'd been trying so hard to be polite that he hadn't cottoned on to Max mocking him- but he was smiling, so he supposed he hadn't fucked up too severely. Not yet, at least.

"Yeah, yeah. Your accent's still a fucking tragedy."

"Hey, I don't disagree." He looked up front to where Mrs. Klein was pulling up a powerpoint. "Uh, meet me later in the library, alright? We'll teach you how to speak proper Australian."

"Proper Australian." Ian tried not to grin too widely, and failed miserably. "Sure, sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me on tumblr - sleepydubbbz.tumblr.com
> 
> Comments are super appreciated-I cranked this out in a few hours and it's 5am as I'm typing this, so if it sucks, I won't be surprised!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more new friends, and a beachy day for a birthday boy.

“Come on, try it!”

“Dude, no, I’ll sound like a fuckin’ retard.”

“Hey, you know that’s, like, a slur or whatever.” The kid with the camo hat butted in from his spot on the opposite end of the long table. Max and Ian had been sat there in the library for the better part of an hour now, with Max acting as his de facto Aussie slang tutor. The two looked towards the other kid, who was smiling in a very sleepy manner. Ian could tell he wasn’t anywhere near serious-and probably never had been in his life.

“Yeah? I’ll show you a slur,” Max laughed, pushing fringe out of his eyes. “I’ll shove a slur up your ass.”

“Sounds pretty kinky of you, Max. I didn’t know you were a fuckin’ poof.”

“I’m a poof, eh? You’re the one called “Joji”, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hey!” Triumphant, Ian pointed at his notebook, wherein was scribbled all of Max’s nonsense. “You just called him gay!”

Joji laughed louder than one would expect from someone who looked like he sleepwalked through life. “Yeah, yeah I did, mate. You must be the new guy I overheard people talking about.”

Ian’s pulse was suddenly louder than normal, thrumming in his fingers and neck. “What were they saying?”

“Oh, the usual tat. Just Joey asking “you seen that new Yank kid?” in that big stupid voice of his. Can’t ‘spect people to not be curious when somebody new shows up outta nowhere, especially an American somebody. What’s your name?”

“Ian. Never met someone named Joji before.”

“Yeah, my real name’s George, but it always confuses people. I figured out a while back that Joji sounds more, I dunno, like a Jap name...what? I’m allowed to say it,” he said to Ian, who had cringed slightly. “I heard Americans were pussies, but damn.”

Max was biting back laughter. “Ian, he just called you a pussy. What d’you say to that? What are you, a pussy?”

Ian just squinted at Max for a moment, until the other boy waggled his eyebrows and slid the notebook across the table.

“The fuck?”

“Tell him what you think of him, pussy.”

These guys were fucking strange. Ian leafed through the phrases he’d learned, trying to shove together a few in his head that wouldn’t sound entirely moronic. Eventually he made up his mind and let the notebook flop onto the table as he turned and fixed Joji with an unsettling grin-the one his sister had called his evil face when they were kids.

“You’re, uh, not the full quid, you ankle-biting...derro ratbag?”

Immediately, his ears were assaulted by a screeching nightmare cackle as Max doubled over, face already an almost fluorescent red. Joji’s laugh was silent, but shook his entire frame and had him nearly arching out of his chair, with tears of mirth staining his face. And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, Ian just let go, allowed himself to be overtaken by one of those gut-straining laughs, the type that he’d remember twenty or forty years down the line even if he didn’t remember the when or the why or maybe even the where, though he’d always remember the who. The interruption by the strung-out librarian and the subsequent chewing out didn’t matter, nor did the baffled glares from the group of girls studying at the next table-nothing mattered because Ian had been fucking miserable for what felt like eons and within fifteen seconds that age was a distant memory, and it was all thanks to these two dumbasses that he’d only known for four hours. So he laughed and laughed, letting the tears come with it, comfortable in knowing that Max and Joji couldn’t possibly guess that he was high on utter relief.

 

+++++

 

Ian’s short seventeen years of life could be divided into two distinct and drastically different eras. There was pre-Max and Joji, and post-Max and Joji. One period spanned most of his time thus far, and the other spanned about ten days, but in his mind they carried equal weight and significance. He’d never dream of expressing it aloud, but the two imbeciles he’d simply chanced upon were like nothing he’d ever experienced-their interactions were practically symbiotic in how easily they flowed and how gloriously fucking stupid they all were. It was the sort of adolescent camaraderie that all teachers grow to fear because of its complete refusal to be controlled or restricted in any fashion. 

They quickly became known to the entire Westdale faculty just as “The Boys”.

Walking to school on the morning of his birthday, Ian registered that it was getting brighter earlier, the sun was higher than it had been only a few weeks before, which baffled him until he remembered that everything was reversed here. October, and summer was fast approaching; the neighbors’ garden had become far more colorful and fragrant, and the other day he and Max had encountered a absolutely fucking giant spider in Max’s backyard (and Max had managed to capture Ian’s screams on video, of course). It struck him that this meant he’d essentially be getting a full year of summer, and he was more than okay with that. It meant more time awake, more time exploring his new map-more time with his friends.

He managed to forget about his birthday for most of the morning-birthdays had never gotten him very excited. Thankfully, he was reminded as soon as he was outside the Business classroom when Max popped out from behind the door and mashed a cupcake into his face.

“Come on, cunt. We’re gonna go celebrate.”

Sputtering as he cleared frosting from his airways, Ian scraped some of the cakey mess off his face and spread it through Max’s unruly mop of hair, earning himself a shove. “Oi, get outta my hair, fucking cunt! I’ll kill you! Fuckin’ fag-”

“Don’t worry, Maxie, you look beautiful. The rainbow frosting brings out your eyes, really adds to your aura. I’m not skipping when we have a fucking test tomorrow.”

“Tough fucking tits, nerd boy, because me an’ Joji are dragging your arse to the beach one way or another.” Before Ian could stop him, he smeared a frosting-covered hand down the front of Ian’s shirt. “Oh no, can’t have us walking around like that! Better get cleaned up before Mrs. Klein sees you, eh?”

All Ian could really do was growl as Max dragged him towards the side door, not really wanting to resist anyway. Once they were outside, he set his bag down on a stone bench and undid his tie. Seeing that Ian was taken aback, he turned and did the same for him.

“The fuck are you doing?!"

“Well, you were clearly just gonna stand there with your mouth half open and we have a bus to catch.”

“Where’s Joji?”

“He’s there already. C’mon, put this on.” He handed Ian a Captain America t-shirt and slapped him without warning. “Still had a bit of frosting on there.”

“You’re just chock-full of gags today.”

With Ian decked out in Max’s shirt, boardshorts, and sandals, they barely made it to the bus, but barely still counts. The ride to Scarborough Beach was about ten minutes, and Max was engrossed in his phone most of the time messaging Joji.

“If you cunts pull some stupid fuckin’ prank...” Ian said after a while.

“There wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do.”

“I’ll drown you, that’s a fun little gag.”

Once they were off the bus and walking down to the white sand, Ian could really take in the day. The sun was naked of clouds and blazing directly above, making the water practically blinding to look at- and the Indian Ocean view was spectacular enough by itself, pristinely clear and the absolute purest blue in the perfect gradient all the way to the horizon line, where the outlines of boats dotted the waves. It wasn’t until Max smacked his arm that he saw Joji down the beach to the left, waving from where he sat under a lurid orange umbrella. The confusing part was the other people sitting with him-four of them, two guys and two girls. They might have been familiar, maybe not, but they made Ian slow down a bit regardless. 

“They go to school with us,” Max said, seemingly reading his mind. “Chad and his mate Jeff, and I know Ella and Mariam from my Bio. I dunno, Ella’s alright, thought I’d invite ‘em along.”

Max was clearly blushing, and Ian was so tempted to give him shit, but he became preoccupied by Joji shoving a cake under his nose, the candles practically singing him. “You took for-fucking-ever, blow ‘em out, cunt!”

Ian knew it was in his best interests to obey, and blew them all out in one breath without bothering to think of a wish.

“That shirt’s fucking gay,” said the larger of the two guys, grinning at Ian, who realized that “Chad” was Fat Cunt from the first day of school. The sweat sheen was unmistakable.

“Good to see you, man,” he replied. “I didn’t realize you’d ever been outside before.”

“This is his first time,” snorted the other guy, presumably Jeff. “Chad’s actually been living in his mum’s uterus for eighteen years.”

The taller of the two girls, pale with long reddish hair, fake-gagged and splashed Jeff with some of her drink. “Quit talking, you absolute duck.”

This insult made sense as soon as Jeff laughed-it sounded strangely like a honk or a quack. The other girl, bronzed and dark-haired, made a face and turned her face back towards the sun, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose.

Through all this, Joji had been scurrying around, getting Ian and Max drinks from the cooler and cutting cake. Ian finally took a second to look at what was before him-there was a picnic table full of food, chairs and towels set up in a cluster, enough room for all of them. Presumably, Joji and Max had been planning this for a day or so and Joji had been at the beach all morning setting up...it was all just surreal for him. He knew his California friends wouldn’t have put all the effort into getting a party together for him, not like this, and it struck him- not for the first time- how fucking lucky he’d gotten right off the bat.

“Hey, thanks, man,” he said to Joji as the other boy handed him a red cup. “This is pretty neat.”

“Shit, it’s really nothin’. It was Max’s idea, and Chad got all the booze. Besides, figure we all deserve a break after slaving away at school doing nothing for a whole two weeks or so, y’know?”

“True-wait, booze?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ handed you a beer, didn’t I?”

Ian hadn’t even taken a sip yet, so he took a swig, grimacing a bit. “Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s beer alright. Ain’t nothin’ like a good beer.”

“Not a beer fan, huh? Here, give it to Jeff, I’ll get you something. And eat your fuckin’ cake.”

Like the absolute moron he was, Ian didn’t even register Max stopping conversation with Ella to watch him, biting back laughter as he took a bite of the cake. It was good, normal old cake, vanilla with chocolate filling and frosting, and then-

“ _Son of a fucking dick!_ ” Gagging and spitting, Ian lobbed the monstrous cake slice at Joji, who was already bent double and gasping from laughter. Max’s cackle filled the air, and without thinking twice Ian grabbed the rest of the cake and dove at Max, bringing it down on his head.

“MY HAIR! YOU BLOODY FUCKIN’ COCK! I’LL KILL YOU-”

“YOU FED ME TOENAILS!” Ian cried, trying not to laugh as he wrestled Max into the sand and wailed on him. “IT ISN’T EVEN FUNNY!”

Max was stronger than he looked, and fought back viciously, the two of them tumbling through the sand and trying to land as many punches as humanly possible, barely registering the howls of the others. Joji’s strangled, breathless laugh was echoing off the water as he beat his fists on the table.

“Don’t think...I’m not gonna fuck you up too,” Ian snarled at him while he had Max pinned, spitting sand out. “I’ll ram that fucking umbrella up your Jap ass-MOTHERFUCKER!” he screamed-Max had evidently decided on the low road and kneed him directly in the balls. He curled in on himself and tried to stumble after the other boys as they made a break for the water, ignoring Chad’s barrage of insults as he gathered all his willpower and yanked the shirt over his head because like fuck were they gonna get away-

“Wait-” Joji coughed, struggling as Ian tried to dunk him, “Wait-I made-made another cake- _bleurgh_ -STRAWBERRY-”

Ian finally paused and glared at him, water streaming in his eyes, still gasping from the pain radiating from his groin.

“Well then...maybe can negotiate a truce.”

 

+++++

 

He could still feel Max’s assault hours later as he stumbled into his bedroom that night, still tipsy off the shots Joji had managed to get in him, coupled with the raging sunburn on his back that announced itself when he fell into his bed and sheets rasped against red-hot bare skin, and he’d never been less bothered in his life as he dozed off, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made ridiculously happy and I hope it made you happy too. I
> 
> About the other kids-the girls are both original characters, and Jeff is definitely not supposed to be Dolan Dark. HTB is definitely not going to show up, either. Wink wonk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hormones, unbridled impulsivity, and utter confusion on all sides.

It was official. Ian did not like Ella.

Not that there was anything wrong with her, per se; just that her bubbly, hiccup-y laugh grated on his nerves, and whenever she turned around her too-long copper ponytail whipped him in the face, and her jokes were stale and reeked of tryhard, and was it just him or was she _always_ draped over Max?

Just as bad, wherever Ella went, Mariam did too, and she was an entirely different brand of annoying. She hardly ever spoke- not that Ella ever gave anybody a word in edgewise- and her main form of communication seemed to be rolling her eyes and shaking out her cloud of kinky hair. Ian always felt like he was being watched when she was around, her maple eyes roving over him, and when she touched his arm to get his attention it sent a strange shock up to his shoulder, and he still hadn’t quite shaken the fuzzy memory of kissing her on his birthday, slow and clumsy and drunk, and it was all just very frustrating.

Like it or not, he seemed condemned to spend each lunch period with them, Ella sitting on Max’s lap and playing with his hair and Mariam Snapchatting every passing second. It had been nearly two months of this and he was resigned to it, blocking out the annoyances by focusing on Joji. Today he was soliciting opinions on his “Christmas mix”-he’d taken a bunch of holiday songs and added his own beats to them.

“I think my favorite is the Charlie Brown one,” Ian finally said after listening for the umpteenth time. “Nice and depressing."

“Yeah, yeah, I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Joji said, brightening, and he set his phone down with the beat on repeat, starting to hum to himself. Ian found himself keeping time with his feet.

“ _Baby...can you be a little bit stronger?_ ” He hesitated, nose scrunching in concentration.

“... _cuz I need a little longer,_ ” Ian offered, shrugging. He wasn’t a masterful lyricist like his friend, but he’d listened to enough of his stuff by now to have an idea of what a Joji tune should sound like.

“Yeah, mate, I like that. Hmm hmmm… _you’re an earthly comfort, yet so divine…_ ”

“ _I never see you anymore,_ ” Ian finished, more to himself, because his eyes had darted across the table to Max and Ella, and accidentally caught Mariam’s owlish gaze, clashing with Ella’s infantile laugh, and suddenly he stood and gathered the remains of his lunch, time to go time to go time to go. He was responding to alarms that he didn’t even understand, yet trusted, and threw a hasty “see ya” at Joji before getting the hell out of dodge.

He couldn’t shake the Charlie Brown song until he fell asleep.

 

+++++

 

Ian gave in to Mariam not long before Christmas.

Because believe it or not, it was Christmastime now, which made no sense because it was 80-something degrees (“30-something, whatever, dipshit”) and way too sunny. It was nice, however, to be able to visit the beach every day during vacation. Ian had never spent so much time outdoors before, and he’d never been so tan-Max got hours of enjoyment just making fun of the lines on his arms and ankles.

But he was tired- tired of the staring and the sparks and the gorgeous mouth and haunting eyes and how she taunted, come on, you know you want this, you know you should want this. 

They’d hold hands under the table at their usual cafe, a stark contrast to Max and Ella’s embarrassing levels of entanglement. They’d share Looks when Chad made an ass of himself on his skateboard, and at the beach Ian would read to her while she dozed snuggled against him, her dusty gold skin molten-warm against his. He’d absently play with her kinky hair, coarse and soft all at once and releasing flowery scents with each touch. They rarely talked, their main methods of communication being small glances and making out-and so far, there’d been a lot of both.

He felt like his brain had been pitched into a blender.

In the lull between Christmas and the New Year, Ian was up in the dead of night fucking around on Overwatch, trying to think about how he couldn’t think about what he was thinking anymore, when his phone buzzed on the bed and scared the living shit out of him.

“What, cunt?” he whisper-yelled at Max. 

“Get your hand off your cock, faggot, me and Joj are gonna be there in, like, seven minutes.”

“...It’s almost three in the fuckin’ morning.”

“Yeah, we have to get an early start, don’t we?”

“For what?!”

“ROAD TRIP, PUSSY!” Joji shouted in the background.

“...you’re both fucking gay, I swear to Christ.”

“Quit whinging and get dressed. We got food and filled up and stopped at the servo and everythin’. We wanna be in Melbourne in time for New Year’s.”

Ian froze with his sweatpants half on. “Max. Did you just say Melbourne?”

“...yeah.”

“Melbourne is 2,000 miles from here.”

“And? What are you, a pussy?”

On one hand, two days in a Jeep driving mostly through desert didn't sound like the most spectacular idea. Neither did running off in the dead of night only to scare his mom half to death. On the other hand, it sounded like one of those really good stories you tell your grandkids. Plus, it would just be the three of them- his head already felt clearer. 

“I'll be ready,” he finally said, and he could practically hear Max’s smile on the other end. “You’re still a fucking dumbass.”

+

 

In the first couple hours, it became clear that Joji Miller was the slowest driver in the Southern Hemisphere.

“If I was driving, we’d be at Merridin by now,” Max griped for the fourth or fifth time, squinting against the rising sun that was directly in his eyes.

“If you were driving, we’d be dead,” Joji quipped. ‘I’m just being safe. There’s no rush.”

“I’d argue that there is a bit of a rush to get across a billion miles of desert nearly devoid of human life,” Ian muttered. Although he’d been curled up on the backseat under Max’s army blanket since they’d left, he’d been awake the whole time, watching the sky get lighter outside and listening to Joji’s music. He’d finished that Charlie Brown song, and it was good. It made him melancholy without knowing why. He jumped a bit when Max reached over and smacked him dangerously near his ass.

“Oi, get us a coffee from the boot.”

“I don’t understand your bastard talk before 8am-OW! Cunt!”

“Don’t make me turn this car around,” Joji snapped, and even though he was joking, Max immediately settled back in his seat, and Ian grabbed him one of those Starbucks drinks he adored.

“I reckon we should switch in an hour or so,” he said to Joji. “Maybe give Ratboy back there a go.”

“He doesn’t have his licence, there’s no way I’m gonna lose my beauty over that.”

“I had my license in the States, it isn’t like I’d crash-”

Ian was startled by his phone buzzing in his lap, and cringed a bit when he saw the name: Mariam.

_Where are u?_

When it came back to him, he groaned-she’d wanted him to come to the beach at 6 to go on a run, because presumably she hated herself or something. He’d completely forgot, or maybe blocked it out. Sorry, my friends dragged me on a grueling road trip probably wouldn’t go over well as excuses go.

Eventually, he settled on _family emergency, will explain later._ Which was definitely shitty. But he’d agreed to this ludicrous trip to get away, and he was just beginning to understand that she was part of what he was getting away from. He wondered if Max, who was laughing and yelling more than he had in weeks, wasn’t feeling the same.

But now wasn’t for wondering. Just doing. So he threw every ounce of concentration in his sleep-deprived frame into listening to Max babble on about catching Larvitars and Phanpys, hanging onto every word as the passing scenery grew more brown and empty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> STORY TIME: THREE STINKY TEENS LOST IN THE AUSTRALIAN BUSH?! (THEY ALMOST DIED)
> 
> Or: learning about the stars and learning how to discuss things like adults.

“YOU. SLIMEY. LEECH. CUNT.”

Max’s dulcet screeches were a peach to wake up to. Groaning, Ian blinked away his fitful sleep and clumsily got himself upright in the seat. It took him a moment to register that they weren’t moving-Joji had shut the engine off and was slumped with crossed arms in the driver’s seat. Max had just opened the door and was out on the dusty road leaning against the hood of the Jeep, banging his head on it.

“The fuck is going on here?” Ian asked, though he was pretty sure he would be happier not knowing.

“Oh, you want to know what’s going on?!” Max barked from outside. “Why don’t you ask this fuckin’ genius what the fuck is going on? You wanna tell him how you got us fuckin’ lost in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, George?”

At this point, he was certain the other boys were trying to prank him. How could he have only been asleep for an hour or two and they’d managed to fuck up? He scrambled out and looked around-it was evening now, but the sun was still bright and hot in the cloudless sky, and there wasn’t a sign of civilization in sight besides the single-lane road they were on and a road sign with an outline of a cow and “15km”. The landscape was mostly flat, dotted with straggly trees, rocky outcrops, and waves of dry, colorless grass. Oh-and it was hotter than Satan’s asshole, naturally. No descriptive markings anywhere.

“...Just turn around,” Ian finally said after taking a few deep breaths. “It’s not that deep, dude.”

“I did,” Joji retorted, speaking up for the first time. “Every time Max had a fucking PMS attack I turned around, that’s why we’re lost.”

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO MADE THE FIRST WRONG TURN, YOU SHIT-”

Max jumped over the hood of the car and lunged for the smaller boy, both of them shouting incoherently at each other. Immediately Ian ran around the car and grabbed Max by the waist, wresting him off of Joji.

“Both of you, _shut the fuck up,_ ” he snapped. “What are you, fucking five years old? Come on, we need to figure out how to get back to the highway. Because I’m not about to get eaten by fucking dingos or wombats in the middle of the night. Let me see the map.”

Both boys slumped their shoulders and muttered variants of “Wombats don’t eat people, faggot” as they looked around for the old paper map Max had nicked from his dad, in case of emergencies. Ian didn’t think it would help much, but somebody needed to do something, and if these two goons were gonna lose their heads, then he’d be that someone even if his foot was tapping incessantly and he wanted to fight the wind that was blowing his hair every which way. As usual, waking up had proven to be a mistake.

As he figured, the map wasn’t very helpful, since, as Joji pointed out, you need to know where you are on the goddamn map-but judging by where the sun sat in the sky, Ian decided that their best bet was to continue going down the road they’d been following already. They all piled back in the car, and the mood was already lighter and cow-free when a rumbly coughing sound started up front.

“Don’t,” Joji whispered. 

But the noise continued until the car slowed to a stop, and refused to go any further. 

“You...have...to be fucking me.”

“Fucking with me,” Ian corrected blankly. He could hardly register what was happening. The idea of being stranded in Martian-esque territory was a little much for him in that moment. Wordlessly, the three of them got out and Max opened the hood. Ian’s eyes darted around the surrounding landscape, the shadows growing longer as dusk marched in.  
“Overheated,” Max announced, closing the hood and leaning on the bumper. “Fanfuckingtastic. Could be worse, though...we’ll just have to wait for it to cool down. Turning on the heat should help, Joj…”

“Don’t wanna run down the battery, mate. She’s been through enough today.”

Max wrinkled his nose at that, and walked away to the back of the car, muttering to himself. _“Fuckin’ been through enough...I’ve been through enough...sixteen hours...Jeep-fucker…”_

 

+

 

As wigged out as he was, being stranded and all, Ian could still begrudgingly appreciate the stars. As the sky dimmed, they winked into view one by one. The last time he’d seen stars this bright, he’d been a little kid, on a hiking trip in the Cascades with his aunt and uncle. Sipping slowly on his Gatorade, he batted away a mutant-sized bug from his show and leaned his head back against the cooling metal of the car, trying to remember some of the constellations and star names from years past in science class. How different were they here, really?

“Andromeda,” murmured Joji, making him jump a bit-his friend had been dozing in the back seat with the doors open, his head hanging out, and now he was pointing straight ahead, toward the horizon line. Against the inky blue, Ian could make out a spot brighter than the others, flat and radiating tiny rings of light. “That’s a whole other galaxy. Cool, yeah? And Taurus is right above you-see that orangeish star there? That’s his eye, it’s called Aldebaran. The stars in his face are the Hyades, and that little cluster...yeah, right there, that’s the Pleiades. Means Seven Sisters."

Ian found his ramblings both interesting and soothing. He wasn’t fidgeting so much or looking around for snakes and giant monstrous arachnids. Part of him wanted to do what was expected and tease Joji, but he didn’t want him to quit talking either. Max, who’d been nursing his small beer stash in the front seat, was hanging out the window and staring up at the sky with them, slight smudges of liner ringing his tired eyes. 

The star talk passed the time until they could safely start the engine again. By then, only a small strip of pale yellow-orange hung on the horizon, and Ian was starting to get fidgety remembering old stories of people being lost forever in the Mojave, so he was more than happy to get into the comparably safe passenger’s seat next to Max and get the hell away from Cow Crossing Void. Joji was already snoring softly in back.

“I was thinking about somethin’ weird,” Max said out of nowhere. “Why do people think smoking is sexy?”

“Hmmm. I dunno.”

“It’s just like...breathing, but you can see it. Visible breath that smells like your gran’s throw pillows.”

“I’ve never thought of it like that, I guess,” Ian murmured, looking up from his game. “D’you think it’s hot?”

“Not really...maybe it’s just that. You can see that they’re breathing, so they’re alive, and being alive is...sexy.” Max snorted.

“It’s definitely something I’m attracted to. Living people. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive? I feel like you might be...tired?"

“Nah, Jeep-fucker back there might cut my dick off if I do. I’m good, mate, promise.” Max paused before asking, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. In the dim light, it was hard to tell, but he may have been blushing a bit. “I mean...you’ve just seemed off the past few weeks.”

Ian turned to look out his window, his face suddenly feeling warm. Was he that obvious? “I’m fine, man,” he said, and it wasn’t really a lie, he was. He had no reason not to be.  
“I figured,” Max said quickly, too quickly. “I just-ever since you and...ah, whatever. Sometimes I forget we haven’t actually known each other that long and I end up being fuckin’ stupid. Sorry."

Ian’s chest contracted a bit, and he instantly regretted his words. He hadn’t meant for Max to think he’d fucked up or gone too far, because he hadn’t. Honestly, he didn’t know if there was a “too far” between them in his mind, but evidently they weren’t quite on the same page there.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured the other boy, turning back to face him. “I have been a little weird lately, but I’m okay. It isn’t...bad or anything, it’s just this whole going out with Mariam thing, I guess.”

Max sighed at that, and nodded. “Yeah...yeah. That’s fair, mate. She’s a bit…”

“Intense.”

“Sure, that’s a nice way to say that. Uh, gotta admit, she goes alright, but it kinda threw me when you said you were dating her.”

“You think she’s too hot for me, don’t you?” Ian quipped, and Max’s tension seemed relieved when he laughed, both of them quiet so as not to wake Joji.

“Nah, you’re a fuckin’ stud, you could pull anyone with that fivehead. But really, it just seemed like you said yes to her ‘cause she wore you down...am I right?”

Ian shrugged and flipped his phone around in his lap. “Yeah, that’s about it.”

Max scrunched up his mouth in what Ian knew as his “thinking” face. “Ella was...talkin’ about it, that’s how I caught on, really.”

“...What did she say?” Ian never enjoyed hearing that name.

“Well, I was usually around when the two of them were talking about useless shit in Bio, and she started saying ‘what d’you think, should she shag the American bloke?’ They’d always get all giggly and it was...I dunno, I figured you were shagging her, so I didn’t wanna say anything because, like, good for you, mate, but then you started to seem all emo and shit, so...did you, though?”

“...what?” Ian said dumbly. “You think I...no, no way, dude, I didn’t _shag_ her.” His skin was actually crawling at the idea, which probably meant something, but he was gonna choose to ignore that.

“Oi, don’t get weird, I’m just relaying what I heard. No, I didn’t actually think it, I couldn’t see...not that you couldn’t, or whatever. Do what you want. I just thought it sounded fucked.”

Max was seriously blushing now, tripping over his words, and not for the first time, it struck Ian what a good friend Max was, how he had been from the very start. The other boy was looking out for him, even when he didn’t register it, and fell over his own feet trying to be supportive. Only a few months, and Ian would never be able to repay that.

“It is fucked,” he finally sighed. “Thanks, man. I...that helps a lot, actually. Did you say anything to Ella about it, or…?”

“Oh, I said something,” Max scoffed. “Fuckin’ dumped her, I did. Hell, that’s half the reason I decided to go and pull this shit with you two-I was worried her pop was gonna come after me. He’s fuckin’ scary, mate, he might ram a radiator pipe up my arse or somethin’.”

Ian laughed, partially out of disbelief. “Seriously? You broke up? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Ehhhh, I didn’t feel like getting into it, honestly...there was a lot of crying and shit, didn’t wanna think about it. I mean, now it’s kinda like ‘hell yeah, I’m free”, so that’s something. Plus, she’s an awful kisser. I s’pose Bio’s gonna be a nightmare now, but that’s okay.”

“...You’re a brave boy, Max. You’re my hero. I could kiss you.”

“What are you, fuckin’ gay?-heyyyyy, dude, no way, there’s the fucking highway!” Max whisper-yelled - sure enough, a sparse spray of lights was ahead, marching across the countryside in a precise line. “Ian, you saved our lives. Joji and I probably would have just beat the shit out of each other and died if it was just us...you rescued us from the cows.”

“And don’t you ever forget it,” Ian said with a grin. “Also, you have some nerve calling me emo when you’re wearing a goddamn Bring Me the Horizon shirt, pussy-ass.”

“I fucking hate you. Kill yourself.”

Once they’d turned back onto the main road, the bumpiness stopped, and Ian was able to relax. He pushed the seat back and curled up on his side, his eyes following Aldebaran above-a little less bright now under the intermittent streetlights, but still there, glowing red.

“Hey,” he said, surprising himself in the quiet. Max hummed assent, glancing over at him.

“For all intents and purposes, the three of us have known each other our entire lives. Sound good?”

His words sat between them for a second before Max responded, “Yeah, sounds good, cunt. Now go to sleep.” Ian could tell just by his voice that he was smiling.

 

+

 

When they finally reached Melbourne the following evening and they stepped out of the car for the last time, Max forcefully grabbed Joji and planted a big kiss on his cheek despite his shouts and flails, cooing that he was so, so sorry for yelling at him, and he would give him all the support in the world if he wanted to keep being a Jeep-fucker.

Watching the assault with amusement, Ian checked his phone since he had service again. His only text was, oddly enough, from his dad.

_Hey, kiddo. Your mother says you’re grounded for six weeks. Happy New year, we love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hopefully the wait was worth it. So far, this was the chapter I had the most fun writing, even though it took a while to get the tone right. Soon, we'll be getting into the Really Big Plot(s), featuring some people everyone loves to hate, so stay tuned, you silly billies.
> 
> As always- sleepydubbbz.tumblr.com if you wanna come chat. Love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Utter havoc descends on Westdale High, and its only getting started.

It’d been two weeks since Ian had returned from the wide-open road as a new man and promptly dumped Mariam, and so far the single life was treating him pretty well. His grades were back to normal, he was sleeping through the night, his skin had even cleared up. The only downer was not being able to see Joji and Max as much as he would’ve liked-he was still grounded, after all. Max had been grounded as well, though only for 3 weeks, and the only way the trio could meet for now was under the guise of “studying” in the library after school. Still, it was nice to be able to just quietly chill with his friends, to laugh at Joji’s endless fount of memes and be casually abused by Max as he attempted to study for Chemistry or Modern History.

Naturally, nothing in his life could remain too normal for too long, however. It all started in a urinal.

 

+

 

On this fateful Wednesday, Ian and Max were both running late, for Chemistry and P.E. respectively.

“You just had to fuckin’ get your latte,” Max griped, power-walking down the hall with Ian trailing behind. 

“Nobody forced you to wait with me, you just love to complain. And it’s a flat white, fuckin’ heathen. Wait-where are you going…?” Ian groaned as Max turned and headed into the bathroom. “First you’re bitching about being late, now suddenly you have a minute to piss?”

Max rolled his eyes and pulled off his beanie, fixing his hair in front of the dirty mirror. “With Fischbach, If you’re late, might as well be really late, or not show up at all. Actually, that sounds good. Let’s ditch and go to the beach-I can finally teach you how to surf.”

“See, this shit is why my mom thinks you’re a bad influence,” Ian said, setting his bag and drink down-he might as well piss while he was there. “If she catches me I’ll be grounded for another month, man. Plus, I have two tests on Friday, and it’s fucking storming, I don’t feel like getting electrocuted on a surfboard today.”

“As if you could actually stand on a board-oi, did you hear that?”

Max turned from the mirror, a hand still working the knot of his tie loose, eyes narrowing as he looked around the bathroom. 

“Hear what?”

“You didn’t fuckin’ hear that? Sounded like some sorta laughing. Horror movie laugh.”

Ian just gave him a look and went over to a urinal. “No, dude. Try harder if you wanna prank me...what in the fuck?”

He’d looked down and been greeted by the sight of a single egg resting in the urinal. A fucking egg. “Max, look at this shit.”

“Someone shit in the urinals again?”

“No, weirder-”

He was cut off by a thud and cracking on the back of his head, followed by a wetness dripping down his neck. Max’s mouth dropped open.

“What the FUCK ARE THOSE?!”

That was when Ian heard it-the laughter. Max hadn’t been pulling any memes on him after all. He turned towards the noise-and that was his fatal mistake.

With a haunting cry, the mysterious assailant launched a barrage of raw eggs at the two boys. Ian dove under the sink and cowered while Max screeched out some truly disgusting insults and tried to grab the guy-but he only got more eggs to the face. Neither of them could see the attacker-he seemed to be everywhere at once, and Ian was shouting words he couldn't even hear because his ears were full of fucking egg-

But as soon as it had started, it was over. After being not hit for a few seconds, Max, who had backed into an empty stall, lifted his head and saw-no one. The only other person in the bathroom was Ian, absolutely coated in raw egg and shell fragments. The rest of the bathroom was just as much of a disaster-the mirrors were opaque with liquid yellow, the urinals and sinks dripping, the grimy tiles slick and treacherous, egg mixing with Ian's spilled coffee. But the egg-flinging freak was nowhere to be found.

Ian lifted his head too, and he met Max’s stunned stare across the room. The surrealness of their situation was just a little too much for him to comprehend when he was such a mess. He fought back an urge to laugh-while it was definitely ridiculous, it certainly wasn't funny.

“We need to get outta here,” Max finally whispered, scrambling to his feet. Why he felt the need to whisper was anyone’s guess.

Ian got up too, holding onto the sink so he didn't slip, and grabbing his ruined backpack. Straight-up panic was setting in-if they were found in here with this mess, suspension would probably be the best result. He pitied whoever had to clean this, but he wasn't about to stick around and apologize.

“Maybe we should go surf after all,” he said, and they took off down the hall to the nearest exit. 

 

+

 

“Hey, did you boys hear about-”

“Fuckin’ be quiet,” Max hissed, clapping a hand over Joji’s mouth. “The freaky cunt might be spying on us.”

It was the next afternoon, and the three boys were sitting in the library, huddled together over the table. Ian glanced over Max’s shoulder, keeping an eye out for any movement.

“The fucker got Gemma Nelson over in the English hall bathroom,” Joji continued. “She says she didn't see anything. They had her up in the office all day, but I doubt she'll get suspended. She ain't the type to pull pranks, while uh, you cunts…”

“It's always his fuckin’ genius idea,” Ian retorted, glaring pointedly at Max, who responded with a punch to the arm. “Anyway...this shit isn't even funny. I thought I was gonna die.”

“Crikey, you're fuckin’ dramatic.” Max rolled his eyes.

“Don't crikey me, you shaggy cunt. You were the one screaming.”

“Kill yourself.”

“Fucking stop, both of you,” Joji snapped. “Shouldn't we try and figure out who this bastard is?”

Max looked at him like he'd announced that he was pregnant, while Ian fidgeted with the knot of his tie. “I mean...I dunno…”

“You don’t know? Ian, if we don’t figure out who this bloke is, they’re gonna find somebody else to blame, and I bet all my savings it’ll be us three. I dunno about you, but I actually care about doing good in school, so are you dumbfucks gonna help me or not?”

The glare Joji was directing at Ian made something in his chest drop. He knew the other boy was right, and he didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Okay,” he replied, nudging Max until he grumbled an affirmative. “What do we do?”

Joji’s face brightened, and he flipped to a new page in his notebook. “Alright, so I was thinking about how you described them last night...or, how you didn’t. You didn’t even see a person, just heard the laugh and whatever noises they made. So we could be looking for a guy or girl, really, but i think the important part will be figuring out how they operate.”

“Seems like they just...sit in there and wait until someone come in,” Max mused.

“But where?” Ian asked. “All the stall doors were open when we walked in there yesterday. We would have know if someone was in there. Could they have snuck in behind us?”

“I doubt it. Those doors are creaky as fuck, and I woulda seen it in the mirror.”

Ian watched Joji tap his pen against his lip as the thought, noting that the tip was a bit chewed up. 

“Someone needs to stake out a bathroom,” he finally said. “One that hasn’t been hit yet.”

Max shook his head. “There’s too many bathrooms, you’d probably pick the wrong one.”

“If all three of us choose a bathroom, we’ll probably catch them.”

“...you mean just sit in one all day? I dunno, Joj,” Ian said.

“Well, how about we start with this, and see how it goes? We can modify the plan as we go along.”

Ian looked over at Max to see if he had anything to add, but he’d pulled on his yellow beanie and the hood of his sweater and put his earbuds in, scowling down at his calculus textbook. He had no clue what the attitude was for, but something told him now wasn’t the time to ask.

“Alright,” he finally said. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

An approaching girl behind Joji caught Ian’s eye. She looked like she’d been crying, and her blonde hair looked strangely stiff-he quickly realized this must be Gemma Nelson.

“George? Joji?” she asked, tentatively tapping on his shoulder. Joji turned and gave her a small smile.

“Alright, Gemma?”

“Yeah...thanks for bein’ so nice to me earlier. I forgot, I meant to show this to you…”

Max had taken out his earbuds and was studying Joji silently as Gemma handed him a dirty, crumpled piece of notebook paper, which he unfolded and laid flat on the table.

“Weird,” Ian muttered, turning it around. In childlike, blockish letters, the paper read:

_Gorg Max Ean. no battel no warr. moer nauty egg soon. come find._


End file.
